


The Cabot Campaign

by mercutibro



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Politics, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24860119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercutibro/pseuds/mercutibro
Summary: “Look. We’ve got some dirt on the Cabot campaign. We need you to get in there, working for them. They’re playing this campaign real fuckin’ dirty, man, and if we expose them, we can bring them down.”Freddy Newandyke, a staffer in the Scagnetti Campaign for State Senate, infiltrates the infamous Joe Cabot's campaign in the hopes of getting some dirt on the mismanagement of his campaign. And then he meets Larry Dimmick.
Relationships: Mr. Blonde/"Nice Guy" Eddie Cabot, Mr. Orange/Mr. White (Reservoir Dogs)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	The Cabot Campaign

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter of a Reservoir Dogs politics au that not a single person asked for! Hooray!

_Thank God for the rain_ , Freddy thought as he watched droplets trickle slowly down the window, _I’ve been getting sick of all this heat_.

Heat was to be expected - it was California, after all - but Freddy was a fan of the rain, and missed it when it was away. He found there was something interesting about a grey sky, something curious about a sun submerged by clouds. There was something in a rainy day that allowed the mind to wander. The rain carried on trickling down the window, and for each droplet that dripped off the window pane, another few would splatter against the glass. The gentle pitter-patter of the rain fell into rhythm with the tapping of keyboards and the gentle humdrum murmur of office chat, of pleasantries exchanged between colleagues that would much rather have nothing to do with one another, but instead found themselves entrapped in a maddening cycle of _“I’m just about to make some coffee, would you like one too?”_ and _“How was your weekend?”_ or _“How are the kids?”_.

Freddy had always hated that, the social expectation of offering everyone in the general vicinity a warm drink when really, he wanted to make his trip to the staff kitchen a simple in and out job - one coffee for him, and fuckall for everyone else. And he’d always particularly loathed the mundane, forced, speak-through-gritted-teeth office chit chat. Maybe it made him an asshole, but he didn’t care that Sandra couldn’t take Tim to soccer, or that Darren is a lousy husband (especially since lousy husbands were always so unaware of their being lousy). It was uninteresting, uninspiring, and downright depressing. It reminded him he didn’t want to be here, added insult to injury when they would approach his crappy little desk and talk his ear off about this, that and the other.

Still, the rain continued.

“Earth to Newandyke,” came a voice, disrupting Freddy’s thoughtful observation of the rain. “You in there, buddy?”

Freddy sighed, dragging his gaze away from the window, and up at the man stood in front of his desk sporting a pretty peeved off expression. Freddy quirked an eyebrow, not gracing Marvin with a verbal response.

“Man, I’d been calling your name for about an age,” Marvin grumbled, and Freddy couldn’t help but think that he really didn’t give a damn. “Holdaway wants to see you.”

Freddy let out a groan at that, putting his head in his hands, knotting his fingers through his hair as he resisted the temptation to tug at it, “What the hell does he want now?”

“Fuck if I know, man. He just wanted me to come get you.”

“Marvin, you’re useless.” Freddy sighed, slowly unfolding himself from his rickety old office chair that definitely broke every rule of ergonomics, and got to his feet. He heard Marvin mutter something under his breath as he retreated, leaving Freddy to make his own way to Holdaway’s office. It felt like the old bastard had bothered him every other day this week, and usually Freddy wouldn’t get all that heated about it - Holdaway was probably one of the only decent guys in the whole office, even if he was a little overwhelmingly expressive at times - but today it was raining. And, since they were well and truly in the summer months now, it likely wouldn’t rain again for weeks. Furthermore, since this wasn’t a summer storm but simply a spot of rain, and if the slowly encroaching blue sky was anything to go by, then the rain would likely have moved on by the time Freddy was out of Holdaway’s office. Sure, it was just rain, and if it was really that big of a deal, Freddy could always just listen to some goddamn rain sounds on Spotify or something but, _hell_ \-- it’s the principle of the thing.

Shoving the rickety chair under his cluttered desk, Freddy shoved his hands into his pockets, making his way down the aisle of desks to the altar that was Holdaway’s office. Freddy didn’t knock, slipping into Holdaway’s office without a word. As expected, the first words on the tip of Holdaway’s tongue was a complaint.

“Motherfucker, don’t you ever knock?”

Freddy slumped into the chair, fixing Holdaway with an expression of disdain, “You know I don’t knock.”

“Sure, but a man can dream. You ever think you’ll pick up the habit?”

“Nope.”

Holdaway sighed heavily, a long-suffering, weary sigh. It was the type of sigh that suggested he already had far too much shit on his plate as Chief of Staff, and Freddy sure as hell wasn't making his life any easier. “Thank you, Freddy. A fountain of conversation as always.”

“What’d you bring me in here for anyways, man?”

“Why? You in a rush or something?”

_It’s raining outside_ , Freddy thought, but he didn’t voice his complaint. He replied with a one-shouldered shrug, tapping his knuckles on the arm of the chair in a thrumming pattern that never failed to drive Holdaway up the goddamn wall.

“Look, man. I’ve got a job for you.”

“More photocopying?”

Holdaway rolled his eyes, “Better than that. I know you hate this office--”

“Sure do.” Freddy interrupted.

Holdaway continued on, ignoring Freddy, “So I’ve got the perfect job for you. I mean, you’ll still be in an office. Just, it won’t be this office.”

“Holdaway, you intrigue me.” Freddy quipped dryly.

“ _Mother_ fucker,” Holdaway cursed, eliciting a grin from Freddy. “Look. We’ve got some dirt on the Cabot campaign. We need you to get in there, working for them. They’re playing this campaign real fuckin’ dirty, man, and if we expose them, we can bring them down.”

Freddy quirked his head, genuinely intrigued this time, “What? Like an undercover spy?” He asked. _Like Baretta_ , he thought excitedly.

“Yeah, I guess so, though it ain’t really that exciting. We need you to worm your way in there. Write up a report on all the nasty shit they’re doing over there, and then we can go to the press about it. You dig it?”

Freddy thought for a moment. It was kinda immoral, he supposed, and surely the Scagnetti campaign weren’t playing any more fair by sending in a double agent. But then, that’s politics. Only the scummiest of politicians make it to the top, while all the genuine, well-meaning guys sink to the bottom. Fuck it. Why not?

“I’m in.”

Holdaway grinned at that, getting up from his chair and moving forward to perch on the edge of his desk in front of Freddy, “That’s my boy,” He said excitedly, “I knew you’d be up for it. In fact, I was kinda betting on it. We’ve already got you an interview set up with Eddie Cabot. You can keep your real name, but you’re not to mention this place. Far as they’re aware, you’re just some dumb kid trying to get into politics, and the Cabot campaign seems a good place to start.”

Freddy nodded, absorbing it all.

“Don’t appear stupid, but also don’t let them know how much you actually know about running a campaign. We don’t want them catching on, and we sure as hell don’t want them beating us. Got that?”

“Got it.”

“Now here’s the hardest part.”

Freddy quirked his head slightly, “What is it?”

“Be  _ likable _ ,” Holdaway stressed, “Hold a fuckin’ conversation. If some random guy in the office wants to talk to you about the baseball game he took his kid to, or the delicious fuckin’ casserole his wife is cooking that night, then you goddamn sit and  _ listen _ , alright? You’ve gotta get in close to them. If you’re gonna be in the know, then you’re gonna have to hang around with the guys that are in the know. Buy the Chief of Staff a coffee, or take the Head of Digital out for lunch. I don’t care  _ what _ you have to do to get into Cabot’s close circle so long as you do it.”

Freddy hummed, figuring he could manage that. He was persistent when he wanted to be. “When’s my interview?”

“Thursday morning. Leave the office this afternoon, and don’t come back tomorrow. Stop all contact with us. I will text you to keep you updated when I need to, but for the most part you’re gonna be in this on your own.”

Freddy got to his feet, stuffing his hands back into his pockets with an air of nonchalance despite the feeling of boyish excitement stirring in his gut, “Sounds like a plan,” He said, with a faint trace of a smile playing at his lips. “I’ll see you when I see you, then.”

Holdaway nodded, crossing his arms, “Don’t fuck this up, Freddy.”

“You know I won’t.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Yo-Yo Nation <3


End file.
